


Young Avengers: Into the Night

by Callian



Category: Avengers (Comics), Next Avengers, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Young Avengers (Comics)
Genre: AU No Snap, Bucky's dead though, Did I miss anyone? - Freeform, It's their kids., Multi, They're all taken from somewhere, probably, sorry - Freeform, what have i gotten myself into?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 02:15:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18650869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callian/pseuds/Callian
Summary: They are their children. Born and raised in this crazy world, they are the ones who will inherit its protection. May God have mercy on their souls."I'm broken, aren't I?""What are you?""If you think I'm going to stand here and let you do this, you've got another thing coming!""Who's coming?""WHAT AM I!?!"AU- This is a world where Thanos was (barely) stopped the first time and the snap never happened.





	Young Avengers: Into the Night

**Author's Note:**

> This is an alternate Universe where Thanos never snapped. Originally, this idea was born out of me wondering "Hey, how would Teddy Altman fit into the MCU?" And it spiraled from there. Not all the kids are in the first chapter, though the main ones are, for the most part. I intend to include others once I've developed this group a bit more. I'm thinking Iron Lad, Miles Morales, Spider-Gwen, America Chavez, and a few others I have in mind. FYI, at the start of the fic the core Avengers as follows:
> 
> -Natasha (Leader)  
> -Tony  
> -Clint  
> -Sam (Captain America)  
> -Thor (Jane Foster)  
> -Scott (Antman)  
> -Hope (The Wasp)

**Prologue**

** Stature **

              In a way, Cassie Lang had been the first of the “Young Avengers”, as Tony would later begin to call them. She’d been the first one born to an Avenger and was the oldest of the bunch. Not to mention the first one to follow their parent into crime fighting Of all of them, the adults trusted her the most if only for her seniority and the fact she had usually spent her afternoons baby sitting the all of the other kids when they were young. The kids trusted her, too. After all, they’d pretty much known her all their lives and had been able to confide in her when they felt none of the other adults were listening to them.

              As such, growing up in an environment where she was surrounded by superheroes who constantly went on amazing adventures and saved the world had a big impact on Cassie growing up. To her, it was the coolest thing anyone could possibly be, and she wanted in on it too. So, one day on her thirteenth birthday, she approached her dad and asked him to train her in superhero fighting.

              “Peanut, we’ve been over this, it’s too dangerous for you to go on adventures with me,” Scott said.

              “I know,” Cassie said, “I was just asking if you could start training me so that way I’ll be ready right out the gate when I’m eighteen.” That made Scott pause, and think for a bit.

              “I’ll talk to Hope and Hank about it, ok?” Scott said, “It’s still their stuff, sooooo…”

              “Got it,” Cassie had replied. So, she waited for her dad to get back to her about what the Pyms had said about. Only a couple days later, Cassie received a visit from Hope.

              “So, I hear you want to be a superhero,” she said. Cassie gave a big smile and nodded.

              “Fine, but you have to ask your mom and dad first,” Hope said, “The other ones. Not me and Scott.” Shit.

              Surprisingly, Cassie’s parents agreed to the training. In their own words, “Cassie’s gonna run off and try to save the world no matter what we do. At least his makes sure she’s prepared for it.” So, her training began.

              It was a slow process at first, getting fitted for her outfitted with the special gear, and was put through a bunch of exercises on and on and on. Frankly speaking, it was a lot more boring and difficult than she first imagined it. But Cassie would always say that she knew the importance of these exercises and never complained because she knew that it was simply part of the process. After all, she was a mature, young woman. (It should be noted that Cassie was also a big, fat liar and would receive a _look_ from Scott and Hope every time she said that.)

              Hank had died during that time, and everything had been put on hold. No one had expected it, so no one had time to prepare when it happened. One day, he’s in the lab with Janet, Scott, Hope, and Cassie making jokes and checking up on their suits. The morning after he’s collapsing on the ground during lunch, and by 6:27 pm, he’s dead on the hospital bed. The doctors had said it was a heart attack. If they had gotten to him a few hours earlier, he’d have been alright. But as it stood, Hank Pym, the original Ant-Man, was dead.   

              The funeral had been small, just the four of them plus Cassie’s mom and dad. The Avengers and certain members of SHIELD had offered to come, but Janet had turned them down. “He’d want just the people he cared for there,” she said, “Besides, having anything touched by Stark hands involved would be an insult to him.” She hadn’t apologized to Tony for that, and he didn’t begrudge her for it. It hadn’t rained that day, but it was kinda cloudy. Winter weather had begun to move in and everyone was dressed in black coats and took their hoods off. To be honest, Cassie remembered very little of the funeral, only her dad’s speech had stuck in her mind.

              “Hank Pym was one of the most glorious bastards I’ve ever met. He was rude, demeaning, kinda sketchy, and really just the type of guy you wanna punch in the face so hard their eyes pop out like in the cartoons. But- but he was also the only guy who gave me a chance when no one else would. I’m gonna miss him.” And just like that, they buried his body in the dirt, food for the ants.

              It had taken time to get back to training. No one really seemed to be in the mood for it so soon after Hank died, but they got back to it nevertheless. So, she trained and went to school and babysat the Avengers’ kids when they were off on missions. For the most part it wasn’t a bad existence. Just kinda dull. And as the years went on, Cassie begged her dad more and more to take her on missions. It didn’t have to be with the Avengers, but she wanted _something._ Something that could help her hone her skills in an actual situation. So, she was brought in to help her dad break in to some secret HYDRA research facility. It was supposed to be a simple in-out procedure. Scott had done these things a thousand times before. Except it went wrong, of course.

              No one was quite sure how they got found out. Tony had guessed not all the ants had moved out of the building fast enough and someone put two-and-two together. Bruce had thought that HYDRA had new cameras specifically designed to detect the usage of Pym Particles. In the end, it was Natasha who figured it out.

              “I went over the camera feeds you recovered,” Natasha had told Scott, “I hate to say it, but this was all on Cassie.” And what had Cassie done that tipped HYDRA off to the fact that two shrinking superheroes had entered their base? Perhaps she dropped something that had been spotted? Perhaps she’d enlarged too soon and got spotted on the security feed? Any number of possibilities could have happened. But no, it wasn’t any of that. It was something that, in hindsight, should have been obvious, but wasn’t. Her mind had been so indoctrinated into her by ninja/spy movies that she did the one thing you’re never supposed to do on an infiltration unless you have to. She knocked a guy out and stuffed him in a closet. She hadn’t _meant_ to get caught like that, but she was about to be stepped on so she enlarged and knocked the guy against the wall. Afraid someone would find his body, she stuffed it into a conveniently placed storage closet and shrunk back down. There wasn’t a chance the security cameras had caught it, they sabotaged those before they even got into the building. But the patrols of the guards had been organized so that at certain intervals they’d intersect with the patrols of the other guards. If they weren’t where they were supposed to be when they were supposed to be, an alarm was sounded and the base was searched.

              The vents had been a no-go, filled with a gas that would have knocked them out if they went in there, they tried to sneak out while shrunken down. But then HYDRA had figured that was as good a time as any to start playing The Floor is Lava and heated it up to red-hot temperatures. And then, as if that weren’t bad enough, they blasted the base with some kind of energy pulse that negated the effects of Pym Particles and forced her and her dad to return to normal size. From there it had been a run to the outdoor aircraft lot to steal a helicopter and get the heck outta dodge. They got to the helicopter, they had been flying off and closing the door, and Cassie got shot in the back and banged her head on the wall.

              It had taken her a total of five days to wake up and a massive cover-up on the part of SHIELD as well. They couldn’t let it get out that an active Avenger had endangered a seventeen-year-old girl, could they? For her part, after the shock of surviving had faded from her system, Cassie couldn’t stop beating herself up over how she messed the whole thing up.

              “Cassie, it’s fine,” Natasha had told her, “They were just a rookie mistake.”

              “A rookie mistake that nearly got me and my dad killed,” Cassie had countered.

              “That’s just how mistakes work in this business,” Natasha had countered, “You’ll make an Avenger yet.”

              Her mom and dad (the birth ones) had fought with each other that night. Their screams echoed down the halls as Cassie, Hope, and Jim tried to ignore them in favor of a game of Sorry.

              “I never liked the idea of you following in Scott’s footsteps,” Jim had said, “Superheroeing’s too dangerous for you, in my eyes. You’d be better off as a building contractor or an accountant or even a movie star. I only agreed because I thought that after you saw what it was like, you’d stop. That it was just a phase.” He met Cassie’s eyes, and she narrowed them in confusion. Hope kept her distance, metaphorically speaking. This was something Jim needed to say. “But the more I saw you train, the more I saw your face light up, excited about the next new milestone you’d get to. Eventually, I realized that this was what you were born to do. So, yeah, there’s been this bump in the road, but eventually, they’ll stop yelling, and you’ll keep doing you, and you’ll get up and show them. You’re gonna do something great, Cassie. I know it.” Cassie had smiled, and hugged her second dad, thanking him for what he’d done.   

              Jim had been right, of course. Her moment of glory came on a calm, January day when a tyrant named Kang the Conqueror traveled from the future into the past in order to take it over. She’d been at the Tower, keeping the Avengers’ kids busy while she studied for her upcoming SAT exam when a giant machine crashed into the sea just past New York. It transmitted a message, emphasized by the giant glowing hologram of Kang declaring that Earth was now his to control, and none should resist. Naturally, the Avengers resisted, and Cassie was left to do what she did best: watch the kids.

              The battle raged just outside their window all throughout the day. Drones flew across the skyline blasting at buildings, footsoldiers cut off closed off all the street corners, and the drill remained outside, perfectly intact.

              Despite that, Cassie had found that they really didn’t have a need to move to a safer area. Not that Avengers Tower wasn’t safe, of course. It had all the latest defense technologies: automatic laser guns, force shield, several different emergency teleporters on top of the regular ones, and a whole slew of other add-ons that Cassie didn’t even know about. All in all, there wasn’t a better place in the city to be. Which is exactly why people were being funneled into the tower by law enforcement. At first Cassie felt it was best to stay with the kids in the Avenger’s housing areas, where the highest amount of security was and where the kids would be safest. But her mind was constantly drawn back to the people several floors bellow them that would probably need help. Turning back to the kids (there were three of them today) she thought. None of them were of an age where they had to be constantly looked after and cared for, and they could certainly handle themselves for short periods of time…

              Cassie made up her mind and said to the kids, “Hey, why don’t we head downstairs and help the people coming in to the tower? I’m sure they could use the help.”

              They’d shared a look before nodding and went with her to the elevator, where Cassie asked FRIDAY to take them down to where they could help. From there it had been a hectic spree, constantly helping get people settled into rooms and injuries looked after.

              “Will they be coming after us?” a girl had asked her.

              “No, sweetie of course not,” Cassie had reassured, “The bad guys won’t come after you here.”

              The girl sniffed. “How do you know?”

              “Because they haven’t attacked the Tower the whole day. If they were hoping to destroy it, they’d have done it already.”

              The little girl had nodded, accepting the answer. Cassie had been about to go find someone to hand the girl to while she delivered some towels to the impromptu hospital in the auditorium when the girl tugged her sleeve. “Why haven’t they attacked the Tower?” she asked.

              Cassie had stopped at that question. Why _hadn’t_ they attacked Avengers Tower? It was a landmark, an important symbol in the eyes of New York. A sign that they were _protected._ Not to mention the home base for the Avengers. Destroying it would have been a massive blow not only to city moral, but the Avengers’ resources. It couldn’t be that the Towers’ defenses were too tough. If Kang really was from the future (and with that kinda tech, Cassie was willing to be he was), then he could probably get through it with enough effort. But not once had they even _tried_ to attack it. Could it be that they simply didn’t know its importance? Again, no. Kang was from the future and what conqueror of the future was idiotic enough to attack a time period they knew nothing about?

              “I don’t know, sweetie,” Cassie said, “But I’m going to find out.” The girl was left in the care of an older woman and Cassie sent one of the building’s secretaries to deliver the towels as she headed over to one of FRIDAY’s terminals.

“Hey, FRIDAY, are we getting any weird readings anywhere in the tower. It can be anything, these guys probably have some really good cloaking on ‘m.”

              “Hmmm, let me see,” the computer had said, “Well, there’s been a check-in at the ARC reactor. An intern named Nathaniel Richards. Checks out, though. Passed the DNA test and everything. Other than that, nothin’.” Cassie froze.

              “FRIDAY, why would anyone want access to the ARC reactor during an invasion?” she asked.

              “… I don’t know.”

              “Close off the building, contact the Avengers, and when I get in the elevator send be to the reactor chamber immediately! Oh, but make sure people can still get where they need to help anyone who needs it.” Cassie ordered.

              “Right,” FRIDAY said. As Cassie ran to the nearest elevator all the lights turned red, doors started locking themselves, and FRIDAY’s voice came up on the speakers.

              “WARNING, THE BUILDING HAS BEEN COMPROMISED, THERE IS AN INTRUDER IN THE FACILITY. PLEASE REMAIN WHERE YOU ARE UNLESS YOU NEED TO MOVE. IF YOU ARE CURRENTLY IN THE ELEVATOR PLEASE EXIT ON THE NEXT FLOOR. DO NOT PANIC, THE AVENGERS HAVE BEEN CONTACTED.” Naturally, that did nothing to make people not worried, but Cassie couldn’t take a chance with them not knowing. Swiping her Avengers ID by the emergency elevator, the door opened and she entered.

              “Going down to Subbasement D,” FRIDAY’s voice said, “You have three minutes until arrival. I suggest you get dressed, Cassie.”

              “Huh? Dressed? What do you-“ She noticed a neat pile of clothes in the corner. Red and black, with cybernetic goggles and red-and-black gizmos. Cassie would ask how FRIDAY got her costume into the elevator later. Right now, the AI was right, Cassie needed to suit up.

              She exited on the sublevel and made her way to the reactor, where she found a man in green and purple garb, setting up a strange machine attachment to the reactor.

              “Stop!” Cassie yelled.

              The man turned around slowly, not bothering to raise his voice or say anything. Cassie had been a bit taken aback to find the man’s face was _blue,_ but sure, she could role with it. He stared at her for a long while, his face contorted into some semblance of regret? Nostalgia? Who knew.

              “So, I take it your Kang?” Cassie had asked.

              He nodded. “Yes, I am Kang. And you are Cassandra Lang, daughter of Scott Lang and Maggie Paxton. Step-Daughter of Hope Van Dyne and Jim Paxton. I know who you will go on to date, I know your fears, I know your hates. I know the name of the stuffed hippo you still go to sleep with is named Mr. Normsworth. I know many things.”

              Ok, that was a bit freaky in hindsight. Cassie took a step back, looking Kang up and down. “Step away from the ARC reactor, and dismantle whatever that- machine is,” she said.

              “It is an Ostilion Fution Channeler, it will allow me to transmit the power of the reactor to a location of my choosing and wipe it completely from the map. I myself possess several articles of advanced weaponry capable of-“ Cassie threw a disk at him and he shrank. Kang had clearly not been expecting this, but quickly adapted. He pressed a button on his belt and returned to full size. Cassie hadn’t expected it to work, but knew it would buy her enough time to get in and give a few good punches.

              Kang had reoriented himself and straightened his posture, now ready to fight. It wasn’t as difficult as Cassie thought fighting an insane conqueror from the gagillionth century would be. He really only resorted to occasional energy blasts and shield. No game-breaking body-stoppers, no Quizonmum Farfetch that disintegrated her atoms, _nothin’._ That wasn’t to say he was _easy_ to fight, though. Au contraire, the man could probably hold his own against Natasha, in all honesty. For a few seconds. As it was, Cassie found increasing her size by about a couple feet was enough to help balance it out with her sheer size. She was beginning to see why he left dealing with the Avengers to his army. Kang himself was more of a tech and smarts guy than a fighter. At least, not an actual fighter like Thanos or whatever. As such, it really only took about fifteen minutes before Cassie got a good punch in and knocked him on the ground. Not giving him the chance to get up, she slammed her boot down on his back and said, “Deactivate that machine, and deactivate your army. _Now._ I won’t ask a second time.” Cassie ordered.

              Kang nodded, slowly. Reaching towards his right-arm gauntlet he said, “Army: Deactivate.” Then he turned towards the machine, “Code 7-9E. Begin Shut-down.” The machine that had been attached to the reactor stopped its whirring, and Kang held his arms out to show he wasn’t doing anything. “I’m all yours, Ms. Lang,” he said. Narrowing her eyes, Cassie removed her foot and pulled Kang up, taking him to the elevator.

              “Cassie, thought you might wanna know, the Avengers are in the penthouse. They’re about to head down-“

              “Tell them not to bother, FRIDAY,” Cassie said, “Just take me up to them.” She was greeted with applause and congratulations. The Avengers crowded around her, telling her how she did such a good job and they were so proud of her. She couldn’t remember a time Scott had hugged her so tight. Despite this, Cassie found her eyes drawn only to Kang as he was being escorted out of the building by a SHIELD team.

              When everything had calmed down, Cassie found herself standing on the balcony, overlooking the now torn-up city. The setting sun glowed in the distance, and Cassie found the sight oddly hypnotic. A good distraction from the day’s events. She was faintly aware of the footsteps behind her, but she didn’t turn to see who it was. Cassie just kept looking out.

              “You did good today, Peanut. I’m proud of you,” Scott said, walking up to the space directly to Cassie’s right.

              “It was too easy. If Kang had enough resources to do _this_ ,” she said, gesturing towards the ruins, “Then he certainly should have been prepared enough to at least deal with a silly teenaged girl.”

              “Hey, you’re selling yourself short there-“

              “No, I’m not, Daddy, and you know it,” she retorted. There was a pause, the two of them remaining in silence as the wind began to blow.

              “Yeah, yer right,” Scott said eventually, “It’s too easy. A lot like how it went with Loki when the Avengers first got together. Or, I think so, anyways. I’ve only heard about it in stories from the others.”

              “He just took one look at me and gave up,” Cassie said, “Why? Am I important to him? Dad, when we fought, he knew about _Mr. Normsworth_ , for crying out loud. He-he scares me, dad.” Scott smiled, and hugged his daughter.

              “It’s fine, Peanut. You’re safe,” he told her.

              It was the next morning when she found Tony talking to a young man. He had an average height, average build, black hair, and seemed to be of Asian descent. He was currently yelling at Tony. “I didn’t give them anything, Mr. Stark, _I swear,”_ he said, “I was too busy fleeing for my life!”

              “Whoa whoa whoa, calm down there, kid,” Tony said, “Nobody here’s blaming you for anything. We’re just letting you know so that you don’t freak out when we change your Intern ID for good measure. Ok?”

              Ah, this must be the intern who Kang used the ID and DNA for in order to get into the ARC reactor. What was the name, again?

              “Ah, Cassie! Good mornin’,” Tony said, “Oh, uh, I figured I should introduce you two. Cassie Lang, this is Nathaniel Richards, the guy Kang stole the ID and copied the DNA of in order to get here. I call him Nate. Nate, this is Cassie Lang, the Superpowered Power Princess that beat the living shit out of our visiting conqueror. Say hi you two!”

              “Hey,” Cassie said, starting a pot of coffee.

              “Hey,” Nate said, “So, you beat up Kang?” Welp, if that wasn’t a sign of what her future would consist of for at least the next decade, Cassie didn’t know what was. She turned around and nodded.

              “Yeah,” Cassie said, “Wanna hear about it?”

              Nate nodded. “Sounds cool.” And _that,_ ladies and gentlemen, was how she met her future boyfriend.

** Hawkeye, Jr. **

Next there was Nathaniel _Barton_ (Clint and Laura’s youngest), who had been a troublemaker from the start. He had a nasty habit of disappearing on people and only showing up once he was in the worst possible state he could possibly show up in. There was not a single thing on this Earth he could not use to make a mess with, and this had only gotten worse as he got older. He was headstrong, brash and quick to throw a punch at anyone who so much as looked at him the wrong way. Clint had, naturally, tried his best to curb his son’s anger, taking him out to their farm’s makeshift shooting range and teaching Nathaniel archery. It was meant to teach him patience and perhaps be an outlet for the boy’s pent-up aggression. And it worked, for the duration that it took for his arrow to go from the quiver to the target. As soon as he was out of arrows, Nathaniel was right back to causing trouble, and his parents were lost as to what to do about it.

Of their three kids, it appeared that it was Nathaniel who had the greatest disposition towards following in his father’s footsteps. Cooper had lacked his father’s skill in archery and had found a passion for drawing. These days, he was working on comics. Not a superstar artist yet, but his parents had faith in him. As for Lila, she _did,_ in fact, enjoy archery and was really good at it. But her aspirations were for the Olympics, not heroics. That was fine, Clint was actually a bit happy that they hadn’t chosen to follow him down this crazy life. It could be hell sometimes.

Nathaniel on the other hand, had decided that the only proper way to shoot a bow was at a bad guy’s face. His parents couldn’t say they hadn’t seen this coming. They suspected this was where he would end up the moment they got a call from the preschool saying he punched out a girl who tried picking on another boy in his class. On one hand, they were proud of their son for sticking up for someone in trouble. On the other, parent-teacher conferences were a _pain._ So, when Clint got there, he made a show of being extremely disappointed in Nathaniel and took him out for ice cream when school got out.

“Piece of advice,” Clint said, “Next time, report it to the teacher. If that doesn’t work, _then_ you can punch the kid in the face, ok?”

“Ok,” Nathaniel had said. And for perhaps the only time in his life, Nathaniel listened to his parents’ advice. From then on, in school, the only fights Nathaniel would pick were ones that _didn’t_ have a good reason for happening. Victory? Well, at least none of them were at school and it was with a kid who could fight back. (More on that in a bit.)

By the time Nathaniel had reached the age of fifteen, he’d been begging his parents for a chance to stretch his muscles on an actual mission instead of just training with dad. So, his father agreed to take him on a mission.

“How’d you convince mom?” Nathaniel had asked.

“None of your business,” Clint had simply told him. Nathaniel never found out what it was.

Nathaniel performed excellently on the mission. He followed his father’s instructions to the letter, he performed his duties admirably, and he showed he had a real talent for fieldwork. It wasn’t long before Clint was taking Nathaniel on more missions. Mostly the ones where they wouldn’t have to worry about Nathaniel having to kill anyone because he’s a teenager and no teenager should have to live with the fact they’ve killed someone. The missions were a vast improvement to Nathaniel’s behavior. Afterwards he became more calm and collected, gained a modicum of tact, and actually learned to respect people in power. It was a turning point in his life, and one that his parents were pleased to say had a positive impact on his life. Mostly.

It should be noted though, that this didn’t solve every problem they faced with Nathaniel. Oh no, there was one thing he did that the two of them just couldn’t seem to get out of his system. _The dates._ Dear lord, the dates. They began in the first semester of freshman year, when Nathaniel and a girl in his class named Makayla decided they were dating. Clint and Laura had shared a look, but said nothing. They knew this wouldn’t be a permanent thing. Just two kids trying to figure themselves out and giving dating a shot. There had been a couple dinners, some advice from Clint and Laura, and even a visit to the Barton’s farm and it was all quite nice. Naturally, as these things go, it was never meant to be. Two weeks after the two had officially started dating, they broke it off, Mikayla citing “incompatibility issues” as one of the primary reasons in her 22-page “Declaration of Romantic Severance with Nathaniel P. Barnes.” It was all quite cordial.

For his part, Nathaniel had said the reason _he_ broke up with Makayla was because quote, “Anyone that wants to have a chance with me has to _at least_ be able to kick my ass while wearing high-heels. And Mikayla can’t do that.”

“Jesus, son, what girl out there’s going to meet those standards? The only person I can think of that meets that criteria is _Natasha,”_ Clint had said.

“Exactly, dad. Whoever it is, I want them to be like Natasha, but thirty years younger,” Nathaniel replied.

Two days later, Nathaniel was introducing his parents to his _new_ girlfriend. This one named Sophie. It was then that his parents had shared another _look._ A dreadful, fearful look that said, “This is going to be a _thing._ Isn’t it?” And sure enough, two days after meeting Sophie they met Alexandra. Then Haley. Then Tiana. Then Mei. Then May. Then Tyesha. Then Veronica. And on and on the conga line of dates went, until at last Nathaniel sorrowfully informed his parents there were no more girls who were interested in him left. It was the summer break after freshman year, and Clint and Laura were absolutely relieved to learn that they wouldn’t have to put up with meeting a different girlfriend every few days. Their son was finished, alone, single for the rest of high school. That was perfectly fine by them. Sadly, when sophomore year came around, the two of them realized they forgot one key group of individuals: _boys._

It started when Nathaniel introduced them to a guy named Bryce a week after the new school year started. Now, don’t misunderstand, Clint and Laura Barton had absolutely no problem with their son’s realization that he was bisexual. They would love and support him no matter what. That being said, they were very much annoyed that they had to go through the rapid-fire dating _all over again._ The only consultation was that there was a far smaller pool of homosexual and bisexual boys at Nathaniel’s school than there were straight or bi girls, so it didn’t take as long for the pool to dry up. But, ever the resourceful one, their son decided if the kids from his school weren’t enough, maybe it would be best to try the _New York Socialite Scene._ After all, he teleported to New York all the time with his dad, so it’s not like it’d be _hard_ for him to retain that kind of long-distance relationship, right? And this time he knew he could just go for both the boys and girls right off the bat. None of those worked either.

Eventually it got to the point where Laura just never bothered to make anything special when Nathaniel’s dates inevitably came by. This led to one particular scene where a particular socialite name Mia’Angelo or something stupid like that, looked up at Mrs. Barton with absolute horror in her eyes as she was served the ultimate Barton-Family delicacy: leftover lasagna.

“Oh, don’t give me that look,” Laura had told her, “You’re not gonna last a week, why should I bother impressing you?”

“She’s right,” Nathaniel said with his mouth full, “I doubt we’ll make it to Friday.” (It was Thursday.)

For her part, Mia’Angelina looked downright offended. The girl had begun to raise her hand in order to slap Nathaniel, but Laura put a stop to that. “Don’t even think about it. My husband and his best friend are both ex-assassins. They know who I can hire,” she said. Surprisingly, no charges were filed.

Despite their insistence on defending their son against any particularly beleaguered exes, it should not be assumed that the Bartons were in any way happy with the situation. A complaint that would be raised towards Nathniel quite often.

“Son, have ever considered maybe, oh I don’t know, slow down a bit and not date the first person you see after a break-up?” Clint asked his son on one mission.

“Nope, why?” Nathaniel asked, hitting a robot with an explosive arrow.

Clint kicked another bot and stabbed one behind him with an arrow before firing said arrow point blank into the first robot. “Well, it’s just that this whole thing’s gotten the tensiest bit exhausting as of late. Maybe just not focus on dating at all for a while and let things come naturally? Y’know, just a thought?”

“Can’t,” Nathaniel said.

“Why?” The robot blew up.

“Haven’t found “the one” yet.” A robot got thrown over the railing into a large pit bellow.

“”The one”, what do you mean “the one”? Nathaniel, no one finds “the one” at sixteen. Hell, most people don’t even start getting an idea of who they are until at least twenty-one-ish.” The bad guy just started his monologue. _Great._

“Exactly, _dad,_ it always takes forever to find the person you’ll spend the rest of your life with! I just want to get it over and done with so that I can move on to other stuff.”

Clint stared at his son in disbelief. “Over an done wi- Nathaniel, _romance doesn’t work like that._ ”

“It does now,” Nathaniel said.

“Excuse me-“ Random-Aspiring-World-Conqueror-Number-234,529 said, “I’m _talking here.”_

Clint and Nathaniel didn’t even bother turning towards him. They just fired a couple taser arrows at him and continued their conversation.

** Game Over **

Then there was James Rogers, the one who shouldn’t have been. Natasha had found him on an infiltration mission where she had been investigating some repurposed assets from the old Red Room where she was trained to become the Black Widow. It was just as much a personal mission as it had been a professional one. Of course, the fact the whole thing had been a trap hadn’t been entirely unexpectedly, but _why_ she had been trapped was. In her debrief to SHIELD’s new director, Alphonso MacKenzie (aka Mack), Natasha had explained that while hacking some computers in what appeared to be a control room, the operators of the facility had released an odorless knock-out gas into the chamber. When she woke up, she found herself in a pit facing a boy with a shield on his arm. As she oriented herself, a voice came up on a speaker that said, “This is your final test, Subject BW-CA. Kill the Black Widow and prove you’re the best. Do us proud.” With that, the boy had charged Natasha, using attacks and moves the likes of which he should not have known at that age. Except he did. Natasha had been angry as hell about the whole thing, seeing a young boy put through the same horrendous treatment she had to go through. The fight had been difficult, but it was over in only a minute and a half. James had been only eight at the time, after all.

So that was how Black Widow escaped that compound, with a prepubescent child slung over her shoulder. After the customary series of fire fights and explosions, complicated by the presence of the child on her back, Natasha eventually found the man in charge of the whole thing. With the wrist gun on her available hand pointed at the doctor, Natasha asked her how many other children there were.

“There were 36,” the doctor had explained, “Now only he is left.”

“What happened to the others?” Natasha asked.

“What do you think, Agent Romanoff?” the doctor had said, “He killed them all. It wasn’t that surprising. He had the best genes for killing.”

She shot him dead right then and there, and blew the compound on the way out. After returning to SHIELD, she had given the boy off to SHIELD medical professionals to see to him while she had her own injuries looked after. It wasn’t long until the results of the tests came back. The boy was a 96% match for hers and Steve’s DNA.

“We went over the data you recovered,” Director MacKenzie explained “Turns out the entire project had gathered up the DNA of the Avengers and their allies and mixed and matched them to see who’d be the best at killing. Once their training was done, they were all put in some big messed-up tournament. Apparently, some little shit there thought calling it “Avengers Arena” would be funny. Anyways, as you’ve probably guessed he’s the one that came out on top. The name you heard, Subject BW-CA, was short for Black Widow-Captain America, a code meant to say whose DNA he had. The others were similar. Subject IM-H was Iron Man and Hulk, Subject BP-SW was Black Panther and Scarlet Witch, you get the drill. There’s more, though,” he had said, handing her the tablet. That is for later, though.

The Avengers had, naturally, been extremely discomforted by the whole situation. Once the shock of what had happened passed through everyone’s systems, they all sat down at a table and named each and every kid from the project and had them put down as actual children of theirs in the eyes of the law (with help from SHIELD, of course). It was the least they could do. As for James, it had been decided that Natasha would be the one to take him in and raise them, and the first order of business was to give the kid a proper name. It had been Steve’s idea to name him James, after his late best friend, James Buchannan Barnes.

Growing up, James had been a quiet boy in both speech and action. There was very little he wanted to say, and very little he wanted to do. Thankfully, he was usually content to sleep most of the day away and lay about, not doing much. This wasn’t, of course, to say he was lazy by any stretch. No, James was as hard a worker as anyone you’d meet. He studied diligently, kept his combat training up (despite Natasha’s reservations on the matter) and was overall a good kid. Except when it came to his relationship with Nathaniel. The two _never_ got along, always bickering and fighting over every little thing they could think of, destroying everything in their path of idiotic vengeance. Naturally, the Avengers began placing bets with each other as to when and where they would get together. To their credit, for once Natasha and Clint didn’t pretend not to know what was going on and put a stop to it, chewing out their teammates’ ear about how they’re both less than 13 and as such discussions on their potential future love-lives was inappropriate.

It should come as no surprise, though, that despite James living with Natasha, Steve was determined to be James’s father, and for that Natasha would say she was ever grateful. Truth be told, the two were probably closer that James and Natasha would ever be. It was Steve that had gotten James out of his shell when they’d first arrived, Steve who’d drove him to see basketball and football games, Steve who’d taught James how to actually use his shield, and Steve who’d helped James finally learn to be human. That’s why when the plane Steve had been flying, containing several dangerous HYDRA weapons onboard, went down over the middle of the desert in Texas, James had begun to close off again. Gone was the boy who smiled brightly when his favorite players made a dunk or homerun. Gone was the boy who, for a few short years, had been finally moving past the pain and trauma of his early years. When he’d broken into the Avengers’ morgue to find the man who’d been his father with two pieces of shrapnel buried in his throat and eye, respectively, that boy had died.

Natasha had been there for him, of course. She’d held him through those sleepless nights when he couldn’t sleep, just sitting there and brushing his hair, doing her best to reassure him everything would be fine. There had been many of them, for almost a year. So many they all blended together in Natasha’s mind, a mass of hurt and pain huddled up on a bed in a room covered with Captain America posters. But despite how they all melded together, Natasha would always remember one night in particular that still left her awake at night.

She’d been holding James, now thirteen, in her arms, cradling him and rocking him back and forth, hoping he’d go to sleep.

“Mom, why can’t I cry?” James had asked her.

She’d stopped and held James out so she could see his face. He looked tired, rings under his eyes and red hair disheveled and drooping down. “What do you mean?” she’d asked him, not sure what to say.

“I mean I should be crying now,” he’d said, “Dad’s dead, buried in the ground and here I am, laying awake and not sheading a tear. I should be crying, y’know. Balling my eyes out and let everything I’m feeling drain out of me or something. Instead I’m just sitting here, staring off into space. I should be crying, Mom.” He’d begun to curl up into a ball and Natasha didn’t know why, but she knew she couldn’t let him do it. So she pulled him back into her and held him tight again, and was about to say some reassuring words to her son, when he spoke up again.

“I guess they broke me more than we thought, huh? Can’t even cry at my own dad’s death. What kinda piece of shit am I?”

“That’s not true, James,” Natasha said on instinct, “You’re not broken or a piece of shit or-“

She was interrupted by a snore, and she saw that her son had dozed off, and her words had fallen on deaf ears. In the end, it wasn’t James that couldn’t sleep that night.

** The Black Cub **

It was during the debriefing with Director Mack that Natasha had learned that not _all_ of the children had died in that godforsaken “Avengers Arena”. According to their records, one had escaped.

“According to this, it was Subject BP-S, the child of Black Panther and Storm, from the X-Men,” he explained, “Apparently the X-Gene manifested in him as electrical powers. He used them to fry the systems that kept him in place and left the place. They lost track of him somewhere around northern Greece.”

Naturally, with the sensitive and political nature of this information, T’Challa and Ororo had been informed of what happened right away. This had led to an agreement between the Xavier Institute and Wakanda to assist each other in searching for the missing prince. With the help of Cerebro, they’d managed to locate him within the capital of Ethiopia, Addis Ababa. After that, it was a simple matter of sending the Dora Milajae to discreetly retrieve the boy. According to the reports, he had apparently given the Dora Milajae agents- two women named Okoye and Nakia- a run for their money and they had to chase him all the way across the entire city- twice- in order to catch him. Eventually they did and brought him back to Wakanda, where he was introduced to his parents and given the name Azari.

Azari’s life was defined by movement, in every sense of the word. Ororo had had no intention of abandoning her duties with the X-Men, and more importantly The Xavier Institute, in order to live in Wakanda full time, and T’Challa couldn’t just run off to America (again) and abandon Wakanda, he was _King_ for Bast’s sakes! So, after much debate, it had been decided that Azari would go between America and Wakanda with a week spent in each. Despite the distances, it hadn’t been too much of a problem with Wakandan transportation being fast enough to shuttle Azari between the two continents in as little as an hour and a half with a small entourage of Wakandan servants to keep an eye on him and make sure his education remained consistent despite the differing priorities of the Xavier Institute and Wakanda’s school system.

It was… ok for a while, but it soon became apparent there were problems with this solution. For one, both of Azari’s parents were so busy, neither really had time to spend with him despite the whole point of the trips back and forth being so that both parents could spend time with him. There was also the fact that Azari wasn’t making friends. In Wakanda, he was taught by royal tutors within the palace, who informed him of matters such as Wakandan history and politics, proper court protocol, etcetera etcetera. He was provided with everything he could possibly want by the servants and was kept safe and protected at all times by the place guards and the Dora Milajae. Of course, there was a very sparse number of children his age within the walls of the palace, which is to say there were none. The Xavier Institute though, was surprisingly even more lonely for Azari. It’s one thing for a child to not have any potential friends to begin with. It is another matter entirely when that child is surrounded by people his age that want nothing to do with him.

At the Xavier Institute, Azari was looked upon with disdain, jealousy, and fear by the other students. Never too far away were the Dora Milajae guards and royal overseers who looked after Azari, getting his lunch for him, opening the door for him, and were fiercely protective of his well-being. Seeing this, the students became jealous, for they were an army of outcasts and what they saw in Azari was everything they ever wanted: security, protection, and care. Things they had been denied by a world that reviled them for their existence, that did everything it could to make sure they had to run and hide at every turn. Seeing Azari, they saw unfair advantages given to someone who hadn’t even been _born_ like them. In the students’ eyes, he was no mutant. Not a _true_ mutant anyway. Just a group of cells that had been grown in a tank.

This had a profound effect on Azari, two years of loneliness- twelve if you counted his time before being found- slowly but surely hammered their way into his heart until at last, one day he snapped and began to run once more. He dashed as far away as he could from Xavier’s and Wakanda. Pounding his feet on the ground bellow, rushing to get as far away as he could. Oh, they tried to catch him, of course. Cerebro had located him many times, but he was always too fast, too elusive, for them to catch. It wasn’t until a month later, as he snuck into New York City, that he began to slow down and relax for a bit. He found the place to be quite soothing, really. The calming drone of the passing cars, the chilly night air rubbing against his skin, and the starry night sky looking down on him. For the first time in Azari’s life, he let his guard down and enjoyed his peace.

He’d been lying down on the top of a rooftop, falling asleep, when he heard a thud nearby and the scraping of shoes against stone approaching him. Azari’s eyes shot open and he immediately jumped up, prepared to make a getaway.

“Hey, it’s ok,” the red-haired boy had said, “I’m not going to do anything, ok? My name’s James. Azari, right?” Azari had narrowed his eyes, inspecting the boy carefully.

“Do I- know you?” he had asked carefully.

“I-I guess,” James had said, his eyes growing sorrowful and remourseful, “We’re both from Avengers Arena.” It had taken Azari a second to realize what “Avengers Arena” was, but when he did, his eyes widened as the name came back to him.

“Ah, you are the one they told me about. James Romanoff-Rogers, I believe.”

James nodded. “Yeah. I, uh, heard about what happened, may have asked my Mom with a little help tracking you down. Oh yeah, by the way, we only got around fifteen minutes until the adults show up.”

Azari should have ran when he heard that. Try to get away before they tried to snatch him away and put him back in that lonely prison cell of a life. But he didn’t. Instead he stayed and talked to James. For the first time in his life, Azari was able to vent about all his frustrations to an ear that would listen and understand (“My mother definitely does better than my father, but I still cannot help but feel lonely regardless.”), and James found someone who’d gone through that exact same grueling experiment that was Avengers Arena (“You remember “The Hellpit”?” James asked. Azari nodded an affirmative. “I was the best at it.” Azari patted him on the shoulder and silence clinged on to them for a couple minutes.) Neither of them noticed at first, but it wasn’t long before fifteen minutes had passed, then twenty, then thirty, then, before they knew it, an hour. It was around then that Natasha chose to make her appearance, picking the two of them up in a flying car and taking them back to Avengers Tower. Since it was so late, it was decided Azari would stay the night and everything would be sorted out in the morning when his parents arrived.

Come morning, Azari walked into the kitchen to find Black Widow and Iron Man chewing the ear off of Storm and Black Panther for their godawful parenting. “What made you think leaving a child to a whole bunch of strangers and yanking him from one side of the world to the next was in any way a good idea?” Natasha yelled, “You’ve done nothing to help him except ostracize him from his peers and completely ignored his emotional needs!”

T’Challa rose to say something in his defense, but was cut off by Tony Stark. “Shut it, Tom, we don’t care if it’s a “Wakandan Tradition” or whatever. Your traditions are shit.”

Ororo nodded at the words. “You are, of course, correct on this matter, Natasha. T’Challa and I have made poor decisions when it comes to the care of Azari and we shall see that it is rectified and we shall have a more thorough discussion on the matter with Azari present. Isn’t that right, T’Challa?”

The king let out a sigh and nodded in agreement. “You are correct. I suppose I was ill-prepared for fatherhood and this incident has gone to show it. Still though. Stark, you and your wife are busy people, how do you handle both your required duties and raising your child?”

“Delegation,” Tony answered, “Look at a problem, determine if it’s something you _have_ to see to personally, and if not, get someone who knows a lot about it to the problem to deal with it themselves instead of bothering you with it, or, at the very least, get better at time management.” It was clear Tony was unimpressed with their handling of their emotions on the matter. And when Tony Stark thought you were handling your emotions badly, you _knew_ something was wrong.

T’Challa nodded, thinking on Tony’s words. Certainly, there were areas in which he had done his best to put people more qualified in charge of certain priorities (Shuri on R&D and W’Kabi on border guard, for example), but perhaps there was more…

“I shall see what can be done,” T’Challa said, “I make no promises that it shall be perfect, but I shall try. Now, I do believe there is another whose thoughts we should hear on the matter. Azari?” T’Challa turned his head towards the doorway and everyone else turned their heads in surprise. Azari blinked for a second, looking between the adults gathered in the room before giving his reply.

“I want to talk to James more,” Azari said simply. Natasha gave a small smile.

“James is still asleep right now, Azari.”

“Where?”

“His room. It was the one right next to yours, with a big star on it.” Azari nodded and turned around, heading back in the direction he came in. Curious, the adults followed him down the hall quietly and watched as he walked into James’s room, closing the door quietly.

There was a moment of silence, when nothing appeared to be happening. The group of four stood there for a moment, sharing worried glances between each other. Eventually, it was (naturally) Tony who spoke up, “Um, what’s he-“ He was interrupted by a series of sounds from the other side of the door.

Zap.

“YAAAAAAGH.”

Thud.

“He is awake!”

They couldn’t help it, the adults laughed.

Azari still moved between Wakanda and America, but it was changed to weekdays in America and weekends in Wakanda. The Xavier Institute was switched out for Avengers Tower in New York, where Azari attended school with James. On those days, Storm would fly over to spend time with him and get to know her son better. In Wakanda, things were getting better for Azari and T’Challa’s relationship as well. After an obscene amount of delegation and schedule witchery, his father had finally found a way to have a decent amount of time to spend with his son. It wasn’t fullproof, of course. Wakanda’s Monthly National Crisis would very often get in the way, but as Azari got older and more capable of looking after himself in a fight it became less of a problem since he could simply accompany his father and assist him. It was by no means a perfect arrangement, but it was a good one.

** Thunderess **

As for Thor’s daughter, Torunn, she’d been found in Jane Foster’s backyard after a mysterious lightning bolt struck the ground in the middle of a sunny, cloudless day. There were two weapons on either side of her, a sword and a hammer. Torunn herself had been in a woven basket, covered with a blanket with a note laid on top of her. It read:

_Jane,_

_This is Torunn, mine and Sif’s daughter. A great catastrophe is now faced by the remaining Asgardians and it is no longer safe for her to live among us. Once the danger has passed, either me, Sif, or another shall return for her. If the final option is what happens you are to ask them “Where does the buttercup fly?” They shall answer “Nowhere, for buttercups dig.” Those exact words, and nothing else are acceptable. But, between you and me, I find this to be a most unlikely case. Asgard faces its final battle, and I doubt any of us will survive. As such, I ask you look after my daughter and raise her as you would your own. I am sorry to have placed this upon, especially considering the tumultuous circumstances of our final meeting. But believe me when I say, there is no other that I’d trust with this task._

_With deepest regrets,_

_Thor Odinson_

_P.S.: The sword is for her, the hammer is for you. Use it to defend Torunn should any come to harm her. It shall transform you to hide your identity. When this happens, should you chose to do so, you may use a false name of your own to guard you identity, or you may use my own. You have my blessing to do so._

To Jane, it wasn’t even a question as to what she would do. Right as she finished the note, she grabbed baby Torunn and took her inside. The first people she called were Erik Selvig and Darvy Lewis, her partners in crime for all things Asgardian.

“What does she eat?” Darcy had asked once they were settled down, “Like, do we need to feed her a pint of ale instead of milk or-“

“Darcy!” Erik reprimanded.

“What? Thor drank that stuff by the gallon when he was around. Besides, alieeeeen,” she said, making abstract gestures towards the surprisingly calm child, “I mean, she hasn’t even cried once since she got here, right, Jane?”

Jane had nodded before going back to her phone, where she was researching what babies ate. It was difficult for her, at first, but with some help from Darcy, Selvig, her next-door neighbor Patty (who’d had five kids), and the internet Jane had a firm grasp on how to care for young child.

With the exception of the initial chaos caused by a baby girl miraculously appearing at her doorstep, that first month or so had been fairly peaceful for Jane and her friends. Of course, that was only for the first month. It wasn’t long until a contingent of Dark Elves had found their way to Jane’s house, hoping to kill Torunn. Jane had been in the kitchen, hiding from the intruders, when she remembered the hammer still in the back yard. She eyed the glass door that separated her from where the hammer still laid and made a run for it. The elves spotted her, of course, and tried to chase her down, but she had been just fast enough to reach the hammer before they had a chance to get a clear shot on her. As soon as she lifted the hammer, Jane Foster was transformed from her normal, nerdy scientist self into The Mighty Thor. With it came knowledge of the hammer’s mechanics and the skill to use them. It was a simple matter to deal with the elves then.

So, that’s how life went on as she raised Torunn. They’d go about their day with Torunn going to school and Jane working in the astronomy lab outside town with the occasional attack by an interdimensional baddie trying to exact their revenge on Thor through Torunn that Jane would eventually stop.

She considered not telling Torunn about Asgard until she was old enough to understand, but she quickly realized the best time _for_ Torunn to understand would be when she was young and hadn’t had the ideas drilled out of her by “normal society”. Not to mention, it would clear up a lot of confusion for the girl when her Asgardian powers eventually showed themselves (as well as the fact that she was constantly attacked by creatures that jumped straight out of Lord of the Rings). So, when Torunn was three and only just starting to walk, Jane told her _everything._ About Asgard and Thor, her parentage, and the sword and hammer. From then on, it was their secret that they held _together_ (alongside Erik and Darcy). It was nice, for a while, just the four of them. Jane would be lying if she said she didn’t try to go on a couple dates in those years, but none of them really worked out and Jane was too busy with Torunn and her own work to really care.

Then a madman named Kang the Conqueror came from the future in order to take over the past, and everything went to hell.

She’d been outside with Torunn, using the hammer’s knowledge to teach the girl sword work, when the rumbling began. At first she thought it was just a minor earthquake, but it grew more and more. The silverware clattered in the kitchen, the distinctive crash of a lamp registered in her ears, but Jane did not notice. Instead, her eyes were torn upward where a large drill-like machine zoomed past them and planted itself about a mile outside of town. It burrowed into the Earth and deployed supports to steady itself. There was a flash as Kang’s form appeared above the machine, dwarfing the surrounding landscapes. He spoke to everyone, declaring how he was the Master of Time and Emperor of Eras, how everyone on the planet was now his to command, and it would be in everyone’s best interest if they submitted. It was around the point where he was declaring his right to godhood that Mjolnir (Jane didn’t really know what else to call it), tore through the projector and cut off the broadcast.

From there it was a battle that called all the heroes of Earth to its defense. Long and grueling, it lasted the whole day, but by the end they had won with no small thanks to the new superheroine Stature. As they stood among each other and introduced themselves, Captain Steve Rogers himself asked Jane if she was interested in joining the Avengers. She talked with Erik, Darcy, and most importantly, Torunn, about what their thoughts were, and they decided that her abilities would be put to good use with the Avengers. With the stipulation that she’d be allowed to continue her work with the lab she worked with.

The move to New York was tough. Torunn had always been quick to make friends and even quicker to become close to them. Saying goodbye was hard for her, even with the promise that she and her friends would communicate online at all times. It wasn’t much easier for Jane, either. She loved her workplace and liked her fellow scientists. She’d still be in touch, of course, but that didn’t erase the feelings of guilt at leaving them by themselves. But what’s done is done and there was done, and the decision was made.

New York wasn’t that bad. She’d been here before for various conferences and to visit Thor during his time with the Avengers. She found herself chuckling despite herself. It appears, through completely contrived circumstances, she had found herself taking her ex-boyfriend’s spot on his old team. Funny.

Upon arrival at Avengers Tower, she and Torunn were greeted with the sight of a group of adults gathered around two boys who were screaming at each other and looked ready to start going for blood. Jane had stared at them in shock, Torunn let out a huff and walked over to the two of them and lifted them up by their collars.

“Tell me, do you two enjoy making sounds so loud the mewling of a babe would be drowned out by their noise, or are you in fact actual babes trapped in the bodies of men?”

Everyone stared at Torunn, no one daring to say a word at the sight of the extremely tall girl who’d just manhandled two boys and scolded them with a single sentence. Jane had never been so proud of Torunn in all her life.

This, naturally, lasted all of two minutes before the boys went straight back to arguing. This time it was on whose fault it was. (Oh, the originality.) Frankly speaking, Torunn had had enough of these two and dragged them off to the nearest training room, threw them into the sparring ring and took out her sword.

“If you will not agree to cooperate on you own, then I shall force you to learn how,” Torunn had said before charging the two of them.

And that was how Torunn befriended James Rogers and Nathaniel Barton. As the dust began to settle and the two of them began to settle into their new lives, Jane had to say that the move had been good. Torunn had found a group of friends in James, Nathaniel, and eventually Azari that she could connect to about some of the crazier aspects of her life and she was far more open than she had been back in their old town (if that was even possible). For a while, things were going well.

Of course, there were still problems they had to deal with. Torunn was headstrong, always was and perhaps always will be. Despite the chastising she’d given James and Nathaniel when they first met, Torunn got into fights easily. If someone so much offhandedly said something she didn’t like, that person would almost certainly become a target of Torunn’s ire. And nothing attracted it more than a perceived slight towards all things Asgardian.

The thing is, despite all signs pointing towards them being dead, Torunn _idolized_ her birth parents more than anything else- especially Thor- and would swear on her life that her parents were still alive and would one day come to take her back to Asgard where she would one day become Queen. It didn’t matter what anyone said, about how Asgard had already been destroyed or how Thor was probably already dead or anything. All it would do was get Torunn mad at the speaker and storm off to pout in some hidden corner of the tower. Eventually, everyone just learned to not mention it around Torunn and move on. Jane would be lying if she said it didn’t hurt, though. That after all the years spent loving and caring for Torunn, that, at the end of the day, the girl would always see a woman she’d never even knew as her mother and not Jane. But that was fine, as long as Torunn grew up happy and safe, nothing else truly mattered in Jane’s life. Not her research, not the Avengers, nothing. Here and now, Jane would freely admit that she was happy with how her life turned out solely because of Torunn. Nothing could take that from her.

Then Jane Foster was diagnosed with breast cancer, and that little utopia she and Torunn built together came crashing down.

** Wiccan and Speed **

              William and Thomas Maximoff’s existence should not have been a possibility. Their father was an android powered by an ancient stone of unimaginable power and (shapeshifting aside) was in no way, shape, or form human and as such, unable to procreate with a human (magically empowered by said stone or not). But when Thanos had finally be beaten and all his damage undone, Wanda had taken the Reality and Soul Stones and used them to create two children who were, in essence, hers and Vision’s children. After a few moments where the Avengers stood around gawking at the sight before them, everyone began to crowd around the two couple and congratulate them.

              From then on, Billy and Tommy’s lives were pretty normal. Wanda and Vision had chosen to retire from the heroing business and took up a nice, quiet life in a town about 20 miles outside New York City called Hopesville. As such, they grew up fairly separated from the occupants at Avengers Tower. They still visited, of course, but the life they had carved out for themselves outside of it all was something they cherished greatly and did not want to give up.

              The two boys had been enrolled in school under the name “Kaplan” (a pseudonym created to hide their family’s identities). Tommy was the outgoing one, always running up to kids and roping them into his little adventures, and basked in the attention he got. There was never a person he met that he couldn’t convince to go along with him. Aside from his brother. When talking about his son, Vision would sometimes half joke that he, “Was a pre-pubescent politician.” Billy, on the other hand, was the exact opposite, always reserved and quiet, reading whatever book in the corner that had caught his eye. (In one case, quite literally. But that was mostly Dr. Strange’s fault, and they were able to get it back) It wasn’t that he preferred their company to that of people, though. It more had to do with the fact that Billy Kaplan just simply had no idea how to approach others. So he always hanged back whenever Tommy ran off with his friends and sat down, alone, with his book.

              It was this dichotomy that lead to their separation from each other’s lives, for lack of a better term. The only things the two of them ever seemed to share was the fact they had the same parents, they lived in the same house, and they had power practice every Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays from four to six. At school, their lives were completely separated. Tommy would always run off to join the jocks and cheerleaders (How he managed this was beyond his brother. Tommy didn’t even _play_ any sports.), and Billy would be in the library, quietly reading with the other likeminded souls who thought all the noise and bustle was too much for a gathering of friends. Even their powers expressed this split between the two. Tommy could run fast and he’d never stop unless there was a specific reason he had to. The commotion and chaos, much like his late Uncle, was what filled him with life and purpose. Running was his natural state. Meanwhile, Billy’s powers were like his mother’s, manipulation of solid matter and energy blasts. It required a precise and focused mind that was able to entirely dedicate itself to the task at hand. There was no place for him to fill his mind with unnecessary noise and action, the task at hand was what was most important.

              This, of course, led to the general friction caused by siblings with opposing personalities: fighting, arguing, fighting while arguing, getting chewed out by their mother for destroying the refrigerator again, etc. But every now and then, some good did come of it. Albeit in the strangest way. Like the time Tommy had walked up to Billy, followed closely by one of the football players that Billy never bothered to remember the names of.

              “Hey, Billy, I got a question!” Tommy had said as Billy let out groan, “So, you’re pretty smart, yeah?”

              “No, I will not help you prank the principal with my science experiment,” Billy had replied immediately.

              “Whoa whoa whoa, this has nothing to do with pranks! No, see, I know this guy who’s doing pretty badly in English, and he _needs_ a tutor to help him get his grades up or he’ll be kicked off the team,” Tommy said.

              The beefy guy next to him looked at him nervously. “Uh, Tommy, I got a B-minus on my midterm. It’s not that ba-“

              “Like I said, he’s doing horribly,” Tommy said, “So, I was think, ‘Hey, my brother’s a practical _brainiac,_ so why don’t I let him help my poor friend out with some personal tutoring sessions. So, here we are! Thanks for agreeing to this by the way, bro, you can discuss tutoring sessions among yourselves. See ya!” With that, Tommy disappeared into the crowd, leaving the two flabbergasted boys in his wake.

              “I will bet money that the reason he introduced the two of us has nothing to do with tutoring sessions,” Billy said, “What’s your name, again?”

              “I don’t think he gave it,” the other boy said, “My name’s Teddy, by the way.”

              Teddy Altman was normal football player with normal grades and a normal life. His mother was a normal single mom who worked as a normal therapist at a completely normal therapist’s office. And it would stay that way, as long as she had a say in it.

** Iron Princess **

              Morgan Stark had been named after Pepper Pott’s less-than noteworthy uncle. The Avengers wished the girl had chosen to follow her namesake’s path. Everyone who had had to deal with the girl for any extended period of time (i.e. ten minutes or more) agreed that she was a monstrosity on a perpetual sugar high. Running around the tower, climbing over her dad’s work tables, playing jungle gym with Falcon’s wings, and treating James and Azari like her personal chauffeurs. You’d probably have thought that maybe she’d reel the excitement in a bit when messing with one of her father’s experimental reactors got her arm disintegrated, but noooooooo. As soon as the prosthetic was locked into place, she started climbing up her hospital bed. Tony and Pepper wish that was an exaggeration.

              “It’s your fault, you know. She sees you climbing all over New York City and she goes, ‘Hey, I bet I can do that too!’” Tony accused Peter of one day. Said comment was given an incredulous look from the wall-crawler.

              “No no no, she gets that from _you_ and your ridiculous daredevil habits,” Peter refuted.

              “I don’t care whose fault it is. But could one of you _please_ get my daughter off of the giant, robotic dinosaur? She’s going to fall,” Pepper had said.

              If you had asked Tony before his daughter could walk if his greatest fear was his daughter developing an addiction to all things elevated at an early age, he would have answered that no, it wasn’t. Instead, he was deftly terrified that his daughter would develop a love for things like sparkles and unicorns and butterflies. Tony was a guy, he was born with guy likes and guy sensibilities. He had no idea what to do with a Fairy Princess and Shineyland. Unfortunately for him, that’s exactly the kind of things his daughter got into. Thankfully, she was interested in incorporating these things into robotics and Tony could work with that.

              As for Pepper, she would insist to her dying breath that her child was far more trouble than Tony had e _ver_ been. “And believe me, I know how unbelievable that sounds,” she told Okoye one night. In the face of a daredevil seven-year-old, she found herself taken to her wit’s end. Between always trying to keep her out of trouble and away from things that could explode (especially after the incident where her daughter lost an arm), running an international business, keeping Tony in check, and a myriad of other things meant the only time Pepper ever had free time was when she was asleep. Not that she’d trade this life for anything, of course. It had all worked out for the best, in her mind.

              To her credit- for as little as she could be given- Morgan didn’t _mean_ to always get into so much trouble. It’s just that things that were shiny and round and jagged and existing just caught her interest. She _needed_ to go up and touch it, she needed to get as close as she could and see it for herself! Sadly, in a home filled with all manner of crazy doodads and thingys, this usually meant whatever she wanted to touch could kill her. Her parents, of course, did everything they could to stop her: they moved to a house away from Avengers Tower, they locked all the dangerous stuff in 3-inch steel cabinets with a DNA lock on every single one, they even sat her down and taught her the finer points of self-control. But none of it ever seemed to do any good. In the end, there were only two things in the universe that could stop Morgan Stark and their names were James Rhodes and Cassie Lang.

              Morgan feared those two down to even the blackest depths of her soul. One look of disappointment from either of them would send her spiraling down into an existential crisis born of guilt. One word from them and she’d climb down the rafters herself, ever so slowly just to make sure she didn’t fall. In the eyes of all of the Avengers, the two were a godsend when it came to the younger Stark’s antics. Rhodey had said it was simply the same as dealing with a smaller Tony mushed together with his own daughter. Cassie said she’d had plenty of experience dealing with hyper-capable preteens with her adventures babysitting the other Avengers’ kids. Whatever the case, everyone was simply relieved that someone had a grasp on her.

** Firefly **

              Finally, the youngest of the group was Hank Pym-Lang II, son of Scott Lang and Hope Van Dyne, Ant-Man and the Wasp. Not much could be said about his life. The kid was only about ten years old, and he was a quiet kid. Sure, he had a habit of being a bit excitable at the mouth and couldn’t keep a secret to save his life, but he was attentive, nice, and the star of his parents’ eyes. That didn’t mean there weren’t adventures with him as well, though. They were just of a more… homebrewed variety.

              “Scott! Scott! Hank’s still crying!” Hope yelled, hoping that her voice could be heard over their son’s screaming.

              “I know, I can _hear_ him, Hope,” Scott said, “Here, hand him to me. Did you feed him?”

              “Yes,” Hope said.

              “Did you change his diaper?”

              “Yes.”

              “Did you burp him?”

              “Yes.”

              “Does he have any booboos?”

              “Not that I know of.”

              “Did you give him Mr. Stuff- oh, never mind I see him.”

              “I don’t know what to _do,_ Scott. I’ve tried everything I can think of to get him to stop!” Hope said helplessly.

              Scott thought on that for a moment, before holding Hank out in front of himself with outstretched arms. “Hey, lil’ bud, stop that. Stop that right now, I know that’s a fake cry,” Scott said, “Come on now, I know you want attention and you’ve got it. Now stop or I take Mr. Stuffles away from you and you’ll _really_ have something to cry about.”

              Just like that, Hank stopped, staring at his father with frisbee-shaped eyes and a mouth that dramatically decreased in size.

              “We good, Hanky? You’re not going to cry again and make your Mommy’s day harder again, are you?” The child shook his head back and forth. “Good, now it’s time to get you back to bed for your nappy time.”

              Later, once Hank had been put to bed and things had settled down, Hope had asked Scott how he knew what to do.

              “Well, when you said you’d done everything necessary I realized it must have been something else. He’s a bit past two now, so he’s probably picked up on the fact that whenever he’s starts crying we give him our undivided attention. So, all I needed to do was call him out on his bluff,” Scott explained.

              “Oh, so he was just pulling me around like a puppet on a string? Wonderful,” Hope groaned, “I’ve been outwitted by a two-year-old. Me, the master negotiator fluent in body language out done by my toddler son.”

              “Don’t let it get to ya. Take it from a former crook, there is no one on Earth more manipulative than a toddler. We haven’t even seen the worst of it yet,” Scott said.

              “Oh, that’s ni- Wait, what do you mean, ‘We haven’t seen the worst of it yet?’ How much worse is it going to _get?”_ Hope asked.

              “We’ll see,” Scott chuckled menacingly, “We’ll see.”

              And that they did. Not a week went by without Hank trying to find some way to con someone out of something. He’d put on his cute, innocent smile and act nice around someone and not five minutes after they parted ways he’d be right back, returning some stolen trinket he took when the stranger wasn’t looking. After returning it, he would turn around, head bowed in shame, and return to his parents or sister, who would be staring at him with disappointment.

              Among the other Young Avengers, he usually gravitated towards Azari the most. Seeing him as an older brother figure whom he could plot and prank with. The two’s pranks were legendary throughout the superhero community. It became tradition that the first time a hero entered Avengers Tower, they would be pranked by Azari and Hank by the end of their visit. There were complaints of this, of course. But none were ever too serious. Many people enjoyed the pranks and constantly debated what the next one would be.

              That was the sum of Hank Pym-Lang’s experiences in life. Too young for anything to have happened to him yet, and too lucky not to have a tragic backstory.

** Lady Hawkeye **

              Then there was Kate Bishop. The outlier of the group. A rich socialite who was the daughter of Robert Bishop, the head of a very successful publishing business aptly named Bishop Publishing. She was seen as nothing more than an air-headed rich-girl by most. She enjoyed the finer things in life, and would spend any amount of her father’s dollars to get it. People in the back just shook their heads and mumbled about how much she got away with.

              When her sister, Susan, was asked by some reporters what she thought of her sister’s antics, a very discernable glint appeared in her eye, and she smiled. “Oh, _that._ Yes, it’s quite the problem, isn’t it?” she answered, before moving on to discussing her training to take over their father’s company.

              So, in the eyes of the public, Kate Bishop was a shallow, mindless rich girl whose only concern were what the latest luxury goods she could buy were. In other words, not the kind of person children of the Avengers would bother associating with. But as fate would have it, stars aligned the day Kate Bishop happened to see Nathaniel Barton looking dejectedly at a girl stomping away from him.

              “Wait, no, Patricia _please,”_ Nathaniel said, “Just one night, and you never have to see me again! I-I’ll pay you!”

              “With what?” Patricia said, turning around, “Everyone knows your dad cut off your allowance after you _blew up a twenty-story crane.”_ And that was that, as Patricia Lambourd stomped away.

              “Oh, what am I gonna _do?_ James’s gonna laugh my ass off!” Nathaniel bemoaned.

              “James? You mean the Black Widow’s kid?” Kate asked. She’d never admit to it, but Kate Bishop had always looked up to her.

              “Uh, yeah. Who’re you?” Nathaniel asked.

              Kate smiled and held out her hand. “Kate Bishop, my dad’s Robert Bishop.”

              “Oh, right,” Nathaniel groaned, “I’ve seen you on the news. So, how exactly does one go about crashing a yacht into a cactus?”

              _With the help of some very angry space-ninjas._ Kate said in her head, but not out loud. “Oh, there are many ways,” she said instead, “But enough about me. Let’s talk about you. I see you’re having some girl problems. My, has the great playboy _Nathaniel Barton himself_ already gone through every girl in New York? Wow, and it’s only been a year!” Kate brought her hand up to her mouth and gasped, for effect.

              “No, it’s more like all the girls have something called “standards”, and I don’t meet them,” he explained, “Who would’ve guessed that rugged good looks _wouldn’t_ get me through life?”

              “Certainly not me. So, what do you need a girlfriend for anyways?”

              “Ah, well, y’see there’s this big party coming up to celebrate the 20th Anniversary of the Avengers and I _may_ have mentioned I have a date. No one believed me, of course, cause I’ve gone through every girl and boy available to me, and James bet me twenty bucks that I couldn’t get someone to go with me-“

              “I’ll go,” Kate said.

              Nathaniel was taken aback for a moment and stared. “W-what. I-I mean great! Uuuuh-“

              Kate held up her hand to stop him. “On one condition. You give me a one-on-one tour of the Avengers’ quarters of Avengers Tower. Don’t worry, I’m not interested in the secret-classified areas, just show me like, their rooms and the gym or something. Y’know, the normal things.”

              “Right, right, I can do that,” Nathaniel said, “Soooo I’ll pick you up at your place at nine and drive you to the party. Deal?”

              “Deal,” Kate replied, and they shook on it.

              “Great, I’ll see you then. Gotta go before my dad gets too mad,” he said while running off.

              Kate called back to him, “Do you know where “my place” is?”

              Nathaniel stopped and immediately turned around, “No, I do not.”

              After they exchanged numbers and Kate had given him her address, she returned home, where she found her sister in their room, pouring over blueprints and maps. “Hey. Listen, I’ve been going over the blueprints, Kate, and I think that if we want to get you into the Tower. It would be best to-“

              “Convince Nathaniel Barton to give you a tour in exchange for a date so that he doesn’t look bad in front of his eternal rival?” Kate asked as she closed the door behind her.

              “Well, if you don’t want to look impressive _sure._ How’d you pull that off?” Susan asked.

              Kate walked up to her closet and opened it. “Luck, mostly,” she said, “So, what’s your analysis say the Serpent Society’s break-in point is?”

              Susan smirked. “Glad you asked. So, you see, I was going over the staffing schedules and I noticed-“

              And that, my friends, is how it all began.


End file.
